


Gift(ed)

by haisai_andagii



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-14 18:46:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3421556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haisai_andagii/pseuds/haisai_andagii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Pietro's Valentine's Day plans are a  romantic disaster as his beloved (but surly) speedster treats his amorous  attempts with indifference and irritation.  But as Steve is about to surrender, his beau takes romantic matters into his own quick hands.  </p><p>Kinks (and maybe trigger warnings?): some rough play, spanking, oral, fingering, & various forms of frottage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift(ed)

**Author's Note:**

> This is Cap’s Kooky Quartet Era but we're going to pretend like this happened in the last ten years or so and not in the 60's when the comic was published. Thank you, (formerly) Marvel 616's sliding timeline. That said, the twins are a SMOOTH 19/20 years old. Pietro is a young man. These two are a bit of a sexual mess.

The patio's harsh floodlight cascaded over him as Steve stared at the steaks sizzling on the grill, watching the wafts of smoke rise and disperse in the frigid February air.  

Pietro had insisted on a home-cooked meal for Valentine’s Day and demanded steaks from Fischer & Leslie -a kosher butcher shop- on 72nd.  So, he rose before The Times hit their stoop, rode the 1 to the West End, and bought the first cuts of the day.  He had even made a stop at the Grand Central Market to pick up a dozen roses. 

A shivers shook his massive frame.  Steve pulled his scarf over his ruddy nose before turning the steaks over. 

They hissed.

"Rogers, you will catch a cold!  Can you come inside now, please?"

A rush of air at his side sent the ends of his scarf flapping.  Steve startled.  He turned and saw Pietro standing beside him; his silver hair and pale skin glowing under the floodlight.  The speedster's brows furrowed deeply as he searched his face for some sign he had understood.   Steve's eyes immediately fell to the cut running down the side of the boy's cheek.

"Bulldozer," he muttered absently.

"What?" Pietro returned.

"S-sorry," Steve stammered, turning back to the grill.  "Long day.  And it's cold."

"Won't you come inside?" Pietro pleaded, his accent lush and rich as the Transian countryside he hailed from.  Without waiting for an answer, he took the tongs from Steve’s gloved hands.  "Go inside.  I will finish cooking."

"B-but the steaks-"

"I will finish up," the speedster interjected, waving him away.  "Please, just go back inside."

 

 

 

Steve sighed.

"Yes, darling," he mumbled.   He trudged back to the house, his feet crunching across the snow.

A heady, fruity smell filled his nose, warming him as he entered.  Steven took his boots off and placed them on the rack.  He then followed the alluring scent to a fresh pot of tea sat in the center of the kitchen table, surrounded by all the other dishes Pietro had no doubt prepared for their romantic dinner: mashed potatoes, roasted carrots with shallots, and beet puree.

The kitchen side door clattered shut and a breeze rushed past Steve’s back.  He blinked and his coat and gloves were gone; the table was beautiful set with long stem candles, the gold trimmed china that Jarvis gifted him during their house warming.  His long stem roses were in a vase.  One of them bent at an angle, its flowery head weighing down its broken stem.   Steve yanked it out just as he heard the kitchen door swinging on its hinges. 

"Come.  Sit," Pietro ordered, placing the steaks on the table.   Steve did as he was asked, pulling his napkin in his lap.

The speedster poured him a mug of tea and topped it off with a bit of lemon zest and ginger.

"It’s good for your digestion," he explained, drizzling some puree in the center of Steve's plate before placing a steak on top of it.  A pile of mashed potatoes and a stack of carrots joined it soon after. 

"You know, Pietro," Steve started, the corners of his lips twitching.  "I am so happy that you wanted to stay home for Valentine's.  You and I rarely get anytime alone..."

"Honestly, this holiday is nothing but a commercial scam," came Pietro' indifferent reply as he snapped up a forkful of potatoes.  "Americans lose their minds over chocolates and overpriced dinners to tell one another how much they 'love' each other.  Bah."

"I guess..."

They ate quietly.  Steve cleared most of his plate when he realized that Pietro had only touched his carrots and not a single bit of steak.  The speedster wrinkled his nose as he mushed around the mashed potatoes on his plate.

"Um, I can make you something else, if you like," Steve offered, his tone soft.

The speedster groaned.  He sank further down in his seat until only his eyes were visible above the edge of the table.

"I don’t like these ‘instant mashed potatoes,’" he groused, pushing the plate away with his finger.  "Potatoes should come from the earth, not from some powder from some box."

"I-I know," his weary husband replied. "T-that’s why I can make you something else, if you want.  Um, how about I saute some asparagus and bell peppers?"

"No."

"Macaroni and cheese?"

"Ugh."

"I think we still have some veggie stir-fry from last night.  I can just-"

"I am very tired," The young man as he pushed back from the table. He collected his dishes and dumped them into the sink.  "And I am not very hungry.  It’s late-"

"It’s only 8 o’clock…"

"Can we just go to bed?" Pietro snapped.  He tossed his fork onto the table with a clatter.

Steve sighed. 

"Fine."

He shoveled the last bit of his mashed potatoes into his frowning mouth before his dishes were whisked away.

 

~~~

 

Steve slid the last cup onto the dish rack and decided to leave the pots to soak.  He dried his pruning hands on tea towel and put the candles out before heading upstairs.

He found Pietro - already showered and dressed in pajamas - toweling his hair in front of the mirror.

"I made your bath," Pietro grunted at him.

"I’m pretty tired too," Steve said, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs.  "The Wrecking Crew really worked us over.  I just want to go to bed..."

"No, take a bath," the speedster admonished him, slinging his towel over his slim shoulders.  Pietro shooed him into the bathroom. 

"Alright, alright!"

The bathroom door clicked shut.   Steve stared down at a steaming tub, great heaps of lavender scented bubbles floated across its top like sudsy clouds.

Steve's clothes quickly found their way into the hamper.  A curious toe poked at the water's surface; a hiss echoing over the tiled walls when it found it was entirely too hot.  Steve swallowed thickly and eased himself into the tub, his breath hitching as the scalding water sloshed over his tired body.

Rapid pitter patter floated in from beneath the bathroom door.  No doubt Pietro zipped about their room, still preparing for bed.  Steve slid beneath the water, drowning out the sound.

 

~~~

 

But here they were - Pietro and Steve - in bed at 9:30.  On a Saturday.  On Valentine's Day. 

He emerged from his bath to find the boy fast asleep, his lanky limbs splayed across their bed and climbed in with him.

But he could not sleep.  He lay in bed, listening to the sound of Pietro's soft snores and the merrymaking of rabble-rousers outside their bedroom window. Single men and woman alike, no doubt heading to the nearest bar for low-hanging, romantically-starved fruit.  Steve followed the trail of soft, silver hairs running down back of Pietro's slender neck until they disappeared beneath his collar.  He reached out, his fingers ghosting against the speedster's tresses.

Pietro flinched at the touch.  He mumbled and rolled over, his bright eyes fluttering open.

"Why aren't you asleep?" he muttered, grasping Steve's hand in his own.

"I'm just... I just thinking about today."

"You can't still be upset," the boy mumbled, his voice still croaky.  'Bulldozer was lucky and Hawkeye is a fool."  Pietro propped himself onto his elbows, yawning wide.  "We fight the bad guys and we get hurt.  It's a part of the job."

Steve said nothing, the corners of lips twitched as he brushed a few strains from the speedster's cheek.  The cut was gone.  A thin, white line was all that remained.

"But it was under my leadership," Steve returned.  "Had I been fast enough-"

"Fast enough?" Pietro chuckled, cutting him off.    "Such a funny joke... I am the fast one, remember?"

"But-"

"It happened.  So, what can we do but try harder next time?" the speedster countered.  He cupped the side of Steve's face, his slender fingers stroking along the line of his clenched jaw.  "I think I know what's really bothering you..."

Without warning, he disappeared and reappeared, straddling Steve’s hips and smirking down at him.  Pietro leaned down, pressing quick kisses on corners of his lover’s lips.

"B-But-!" Steve begged between kisses, breath hitching as the speedster caressed the fast rising mound between his legs.  Pietro cupped him, his fingers stroking him.   He yelped, knees knocking together as the speedster gently squeezed him through his pants.

"Be quiet," the speedster replied softly, as he crawled back to sit at his side.  Slowly, his finger curled beneath that man’s waistband, pulling them down around his thighs.  Steve’s erection shot up like a crocus breaking through lingering frost.  Pietro wrapped his slender fingers around it as he propped himself on his elbows to get a better view.    "Oh, it’s cute~!" he praised, rubbing his thumb across the engorged head, smiling slyly at the strands of pre-cum as he slowly pulled back his fingertip.

Steve felt his place a soft kiss against his tip, cradling his member like an acolyte in prayer.  Pietro dipped the tip of his tongue into his urethra and a sharp, saline taste flooding his tongue.

"Less coffee, Captain America," he teased.  Pietro smirked before taking the head between his lips and began to suckle, slurping crudely, loudly from.  It took immeasurable restraint as he took him all the way in; his erection disappearing between those glistening, swollen lips to the back of the speedster's slender throat.

_"_ G-God...!" Steve cried, his fists twisting in the sheets.

He groaned as Pietro's mouth slowly slid up and down; sweet, torturous vibrations adding to the tension building in his groin.  Suddenly, he reached out and grabbed the speedster’s silver bangs in his hands.   Pietro paused, his lips still wrapped around his engorged flesh, as he stared up at Steve with bright, unblinking eyes.

"Open wide…" he growled.  The speedster rolled his eyes.  He parted his lips, opening his mouth wider to accommodate him.  Steve gave an experimental thrust.  He continued to raise his hips, pushing deeper and deeper until the boy’s nose brushed against the gold curls surrounding his manhood.

Pietro gagged.  He glared, trapping the sensitive flesh between his teeth.  Steve released him, holding his hands up in surrender as the speedster pulled his erection from his mouth, letting it fall wetly against the plane of his lover’s taut stomach.  He slapped Steve's thighs, leaving great red welts against the muscled flesh. 

"Every goddamn time!" he snapped, crimson blossoming across his pale face as he scrubbed his puffy lips with the heel of his hand. "I  _will_ bite you, _Captain_.” 

"Practice makes perfect," he chided playfully.  He received another slap on his flank.  Steve pulled him against him, pressing a kiss against his temple as Pietro fumed silently.

"You know how excited I get," he cooed.  "Let’s switch up positions a bit."

"Fine," the speedster grumbled.  "But I want to be on top."

"Of course..."

Pietro wriggled out of Steve's embrace and clambered over him up further on the bed.  He knelt on all four over Steve’s body, scooting backward, so that his hips were over the man's face.   
Steve caught him by the waistband and helped the speedster slip out his pajama bottoms.

"It’s like a tail," he teased, giving Pietro's erection a playful tug.  "It’s cute…" 

"Cut it out," his lover grumbled, taking his lover not too-gently into his own hand.  He did the same, pulling the boy’s hips down and sliding his erection into his own mouth.  He tasted faintly of that fruit tea he loved to drink - light, slightly

Pietro released Steve’s with an audible pop.  He gasped.  His legs shook.

"You ok?"

"G-go slower,” Pietro panted, his fingers slightly digging into Steve's thighs as he fought to keep his balance.

Steve chuckled.  suckling the tip before, sliding.  Pietro groaned, his hips shunting forward into the inviting warmth.  His pace began to quicken with such speed that Steve had no choice but to let him fuck his mouth.

A moment later, Pietro came with a strangled cry.  Steve held still, letting the heady, slightly sweet cum coat his tongue and trickle down his throat. 

"God," the speedster gasped, his cheeks burning crimson, tremors running through his body and resounding in his voice.  "S-sorry…"

Steve let Pietro’s softening member slip from his mouth, licking at his lips.

"It’s ok…" he muttered, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his fist.  "You want to stop or-"

"But you haven’t finished once!" the speedster protested with a pout.  Pietro pawed at him, giving his manhood a playful pull.

"Hey, I’m attached to that," he chuckled,  pushing the boy off of him.  "Let’s try something else…  Lay across my lap for a second.  Face down, rear up."

Pietro cast him a curious look.  He stretched lay himself across Steve’s legs, pale skin cast in gold in the streetlight that crept in through the cracks in the blinds.

Steve plucked the lubricant from off the bed and, pulling the cap off with his teeth, coated a finger.

"It’s cold!" he whined, trying to scramble away.  Steve grabbed him the hips, his fingers digging into Pietro’s pale flesh, and hauled him back into place.  He swatted him, leaving a large, pink swatch across his backside.

"Settle down.  Or else…"

Pietro whimpered as Steve rubbed at the soft folds around his entrance.  He pressed his deeper and deeper until his knuckles rested firmly the speedster’s ass.

"It… it feels… feels strange…" Pietro groaned, his fingers twisting in the sheets.  "Steve, it’s too-ah!" He froze, clenching so tightly Steve thought he would take his finger off at the base.

"Relax," he soothed, rubbing small circles on the small of Pietro's back.  He blushed so intensely - every inch of pale skin as red as a tomato.  "Take a deep breath or else I’m going to have to become left-handed…"

The speedster sighed and willed himself still. 

"Are you ok?" inquired Steve as the boy’s breath grew more even.

Pietro nodded.

Steve pushed his finger back inside. Gingerly, he another digit pressed inward until they both rested against a firm spot he found within.

The speedster cried out, his newly formed erection throbbing, wetting his lover's thigh.

"One more?  Can you take one more, Pietro or are you gonna-"

But Steve made the mistake of curling his fingers, sending the speedster into an orgasm.  A strangled cry and Pietro came, spilling his seed into the crevasse of his legs; it trickled down, pooling at the junction between Steve's thighs.  The boy collapsed into a heap, the bed sheet twisted and warped between knuckle-white fingers.

"Twice in one night, huh…" Steve grumbled.  His member throbbed painfully against the boy’s ribcage. 

"Speed is my thing, _American_ ," the speedster replied, his pointed chin held eye as he glared at him through half-lidded eyes.  Steve blinked and they were both clean; a pile of wadded tissues sat in the wastebasket. "But enough about that..."

 

Pietro straddled Steve's thighs once more, giving him a full view of his svelte back.  A slow, teasing wind of the hips elicited a frustrated hiss from Steve as his erection rubbed against soft curve of his ass.  Steve reached out and pulled his Pietro's cheeks apart, sliding his erection firmly between them.  He thrust wildly, rutting the tight crevasse.  He groaned as his engorged head rubbed against the soft folds surrounding speedster's entrance.

Steve pistoned -harder, faster- the slapping of their slick flesh drowning out their impassioned moans as Pietro came for a third time.   Steve felt himself on the brink; he cried out - a guttural roar - as he ejaculated across the small of speedster’s back.

Steve sat back on the heels of feet, his head hanging as he tried to catch his breath as the speedster moved away.

Pietro dabbed his finger on a bit of cum.  He ran it across his tongue, smacking his plush lips together as he discerned the taste.

"Well, dinner did not help at all," he announced, wrinkling his nose. "Maybe you should drink less coffee, eat more fruit.  You taste like salty bar soap..." 

Steve sighed, a small smile pulling on the corners of his lips.  He groaned and flopped onto the bed, the springs squeaking loudly.  Pietro moved to lay beside him tucking his silvery head underneath his chin.

"Happy Valentine's Day," the speedster mumbled drowsily. 

"Happy Valentine's,"  Steve yawned and drifted off to sleep.


End file.
